I think of the children who will never know, intuitively, that a flower is a plant’s way of making love, or what silence sounds like, or that trees breathe out what we breathe in.
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Lee Durkee lives mostly on the roads of North Mississippi. He is the author of a novel, Rides of the Midway, and his stories and essays have appeared in Harper’s Magazine, The Oxford American, and Tin House. His essay in this issue is part of a memoir about driving a taxi and being the worst Buddhist in the world.
On my very first hospital run I picked up this long-faced, country white guy who’d survived seven surgeries in the last five years. He looked to be late eighties, all but dead, but friendly in a half-deaf way.